


Home

by RussianWitch



Category: The Chronicles of Riddick Series
Genre: Domestic, Fluff, I have no idea if the last one is true, M/M, Slice of Life, Snippets, Worldbuilding, actual world rebuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-10 01:59:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13494416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RussianWitch/pseuds/RussianWitch
Summary: Because this fandom needs domestic fluff?Rebuilding Furya snippet.





	Home

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd

The skiff's engines whine and squeal as Riddick manhandles the small ship down through the storm clouds. Vaako grits his teeth clawing at the armrests of the co-pilot's seat trying to keep from commenting, or attempting to take over.

He knows that the Furyan is more than capable of landing the craft without his assistance or commentary. Still, Vaako would prefer to be the one at the controls and by the toothy grin Riddick flashes him once he can spare the attention, the other man knows it. He vows to take the amusement out of the Furyan's hide as soon as it's safe to do so.

The craft trembles then levels-out settling on the runway that guides it into the makeshift hangar they'd constructed after the first sandstorm almost stranded them permanently the first week they'd been on the planet. They'd slept in that shelter for months before finally getting around to building a decent habitat in one of the ruins still standing near.

As soon as the hangar door is shut and barred, both slump somewhat for a moment letting the feeling of 'safe' and 'home' leach some of the tiredness out of their bones. The longer they stay, the more exhausting the visits to the outside world seem to become. Vaako wonders why that is? One planet is pretty much like any other or used to be until they stepped out onto the burned dirt of Furya for the first time. Now only some short months later, Vaako can't imagine never returning to this particular ball of dirt ever again.

Having gotten a second wind from the first sand filled breath of the planet's air, they grit their teeth and get to work: checking the perimeter and unloading the supplies carrying the crates to their designated locations: ammunition, food, machinery parts all have their own spots safe from both the elements and assaults in the most secure part of their habitat. Only when the hold is empty, the skiff powered down completely, and the alarms checked do they make their way into the small kitchen for a sit down. 

Heating water doesn't take a lot of time, and happily, there is still bread that hasn't gone rock hard or stale. It isn't much of a meal, but better than space-rations they've been eating for weeks in their eagerness to get home. Tea is one of the few luxuries they buy in bulk rather than seeking out the planet's equivalent. Most of the records have been lost or destroyed, some of the planet's flora has already tried mounting an assault before they sorted out what to burn clear to the root and what might be worth cultivating. Agriculture is not something that comes naturally, but they have learned enough to keep themselves alive and supplied with nutrients not found in the meat they hunt.

Finishing his cup, Riddick rises putting it away, his hand wrapping around the back of Vaako's neck to squeeze lightly as he leaves the room. Soon after Vaako hears the distinct sounds of ancient and repurposed pipes transporting water towards what passes for their washroom. There are things Vaako planned to do, before finding his rest—but the temptation of wet skin under his hands, of reaffirming their bond in safety and security is too much. He's been letting his discipline lapse of late before more of a farmer and tradesman than a warrior yet somehow it is not as displeasing a realization as he would expect it to be.

He drops his garments in an overflowing basket making a mental note to sort out the rickety freshener, before the end up walking around in skins like complete animals. Stepping into the washroom he doesn't waste time satisfying his skin hunger. He traces Riddick's spine, pleased when the Furyan arches into the touch. "Took ya long enough," the man grumbles shoving a soapy cloth at Vaako without turning around. 

Vaako doesn't bother to reply lathering broad shoulders enjoying the trust he's receiving. Despite their  _attachment_  to each other; trust had been hard for both of them. Turning their backs to each other had not been possible for the longest time. Sex had been another way to dominate, to work off frustration without killing each other outright. Vaako works his way down to the hard ass, Riddick's arm snakes around Vaako's waist and pulls him around big hands on Vaako's jaw, thumb rubbing along a sharp cheekbone. He's gasps, the metal of the wall cold against his back, Riddick warm against his back nuzzling at Vaako's throat as he runs the soapy cloth over Vaako's body touching every inch he can reach.

As nice as the touch is, Vaako feels himself get dizzy with fatigue and grateful for the wall at his back. They leave the washroom leaning on each other, barely bothering to towel dry on the way to the heap of bedding and furs, collapsing in a tangle of limbs and sheets Vaako feels like he can finally take a proper breath, the last of his tension draining away.

He rolls over, burrowing into the crook of Riddick's neck.

"In the morning," he promises, digging his nails into Riddick's side as he feels his body shake with amusement.

"Hold ya ta that," the Fuyrian grumbles, dragging the covers over them.


End file.
